The Amy Chronicles
by Candlelight Fantasia
Summary: The Amy Chronicles is a series of novella's centralizing on Amy Rose. After a seemingly normal day Amy has been held captive by a vicious homicidal & ruthless killer and has been inflicted unimaginable pain. But can memories of her ex-boyfriend Shadow somehow help her in fighting for her life in her darkest hours? Will she pick up the gun? ShadXAmy. Final segment of chronicle out!
1. Amy Rose in: Bleeding Me Home (pt 1)

**Introduction: **The context of my story is based on the "daily life" – an over generalized term really - of Amy Rose and she is she is the most centralized Sonic the Hedgehog character I will present in the story but if a certain plot requires the introduction of other characters then I will consider adding them to the storyline. Amy is unlike her main character but not OC in a distasteful way, I have considered some of her staple traits but since I find the events in my storyline to be somewhat disjointed and disparate with the canonical Amy Rose I have considered some changes. I find it that her personality cannot coalesce with my storylines so I tend to provide juxtaposition and Amy's character is perfect for introducing contrasts. Her character is mature, she is a young adult, I do not wish to provide a certain age since I believe it to be trivial and useless to the story.

The storyline weaves on post-modern elements and is centralized on themes such as but not limited to existence, society, internal struggles, crime, dreams and bizarre events earning a "General" genre as the story subject, I also do like to experiment with humor. Most events involve Amy and an event, the happenings can be anything from dull to dramatic. There is profanity, prevalent violence, sexual themes and drug use earning this story an M rating, I am not here to appeal to the likings of 14 year olds so youngsters please move on to other stories (you don't have to if you don't want to :D). There is no striking plot in the overall structure of this story and whatever begins in a chapter will probably end in that chapter or continue in two or three parts at most. My goal here is to portray fragments of complete events not a strict and confined storyline. Course of events in a certain chapter are not inexorably chained to one another in any way unless stated, consider each chapter a "short story" or a contribution to a novella.

I have a knack for explaining details and nuances scrupulously, this might bother some readers but will surely enhance your reading experience. I'm not wordy for the sake of being wordy but I tend to look for the best words when I explain an event so some words may seem unfamiliar but overall I'm inclined toward a moderate to high vocabulary selection. In some chapter the point of view might change, from third person to first person. Yes there is lemons, in fact we are making lemon juice!

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Fuck the disclaimer, if I owned Sonic the Hedgehog would I even be sitting here and writing fanfic?! No, would I? FUCK NOOOO! I would be rich and indulging in promiscuity and bacchanalia.

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><p><strong>Amy Rose in: Bleeding Me Home (pt. 1) <strong>

It was the same six o'clock rush hour, the moribund silence of the metro station had risen into the clamorous sounds of citizens moving back and forth from a day of labor. The clickety-clang of steel wheels slowing down in the station for a stop, the klaxon of metro operators speaking over the PA system, the rustling of clothes, the shoes of passers by tapping the pavement was a symphony in itself, a threnody of the working class, the salary man, the indigent and the bourgeoisie. If you felt dozed from your 9 to 5 grind, surely this piece would rush blood to your brains and put your consciousness into gear. As sunset finally began to reign over Station Square she reached the premises of the metro station, from the corner of her eye she realized how blotches of orange and crimson hues of the sun & horizon shone off the high glass buildings and sky scrapers which led to a second realization, the days were beginning to fall short and these were the final fragments of summer, remnants.

She let out a disheartened sigh and finally led herself toward the underground stairs, heading down while taking a sip from her coffee cup. Without much delay she blended among the crowd, the sound of a guitar could be heard from somewhere near, that sound was all too familiar. Buskers would gather around at this time to make some pocket change. Amy was all too familiar with the ritual of these folks and would sometimes drop a nickel or a dollar to her favorite busker since treading inside here was one of her daily routines after work. Though she would never pay attention to what he sang she would always just walk by but could discern a voice, something that echoed words to a lyric:

_"…I didn't really want to get_  
><em> Involved in this thing<em>  
><em> Someone handed me this... and I…"<em>

All she knew that he was a purple hedgehog with an outlandish hairstyle and disoriented clothing, a "cornucopia of colors" she would describe it, she didn't know his real name but in her mind he was the epitome of the word eyesore, it was as if a magical creature had barfed the seven colors of the rainbow on him. Nevertheless she enjoyed his grainy voice echoing loudly inside the tunneled walkway, it would never get lost in the hubbub, like a big red kite soaring under a blue sky. With each step she took toward the gates, the sound faded in the rowdy ambiance till no pluck of a string was discernible.

Sky station was an intricate piece of modern underground architecture, signs and symbols floated at every corner or passage, each a codex for navigating the cityscape that is Station Square. Amy knew her way around the labyrinth quite well and walked swiftly across the intersections and pathways without tending to look at the signs, she arrived at her station waiting for the train to arrive. A plethora of citizens were on standby, standing on the edge of the precipice and some impatiently bending their necks to search for a dim light in the tunnel. She was starting to get impatient as well so she reached for her leather handbag and ran her fingers through a clutter of objects ranging from cosmetics, Kleenex, tampons and sanitary products and the usual tools of the trade but sadly she couldn't find what she was looking for, her mp3 player which she had just realized it was left at the stand near the door at her crib. She felt vexed, lassitude had breached every joint in her body, her only source of deceiving comfort was the squeaky plastic chair she was leaning her back on.

"You seem pissed too, don't you?"

She mumbled to herself while rocking back and forth on the chair, abusing the rundown chair, the only meaningless replies were a bunch of metallic squeaks and squabbles.

"Well so am I"

She kept looking at her slender silver wristwatch as space and time dwelt on relativity, the dials turning in fatigue. Staring at an unidentifiable distance she began fantasizing on what she'd do when she finally arrives home? She just wanted to undress and submerge herself slowly in a warm hot tub, to wash the filth and grime of the city out of her system, to pour some wine in a Bordeaux glass and let it aerate while taking long sips letting the cedary taste sink into her tongue, to finally sleep on her comfy mattress and rest her head on her soft purple pillow. It was the weekend and boy could she sleep till 1:00 PM. The blitz of the train awakened her from day dreaming, only eight more stations left Amy Rose…

... After her long itinerary she finally reached the pavements leading to her apartment. It was around 8 o'clock and night had blanketed its perpetual shade over the heavens. She walked slowly with a flaccid stature, her hand bag flagging on her left hand and her key's jangling with dull vibrancy. She slid the key and as the lock unlatched, a curt sound indicated she was finally home, she kicked the door slightly and crawled inside.

"Oh great, they still haven't fixed that heap of junk elevator! People of Station Square Amy Rose will now attempt to conquer 5 floors of stairs without killing anybody! Guinness world records, follow me on this one!" She spat those words begrudgingly and went up the carpeted stairs, carrying her burdensome body. The staircase was quiet and dimly lit, random household sounds would vibrate in the air whenever she passed beside some of the doors. After reaching her front door she once again slid the key with a bunch of dangling keychains that might just tear the door knob off due to excessive weight! With a slight push from her shoulders she opened the door.

"Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts." Quoting Oliver Wendel with a tired, jittery tone while bending down and yanking her black glossy high heels aside with one hand. Inside was dark and dim, she then flicked the light switch while setting the dimmer to acquire the right luminance to meet the mood of the hour. Inside the domicile was well furnished, a comfy light blue sofa furnished with lots of colorful throw pillows was located at the main hall, facing it was a plasma TV bolted on a colorful designed wallpaper. A big and rectangular mahogany coffee table laid at the middle, adorned with large scented candles. It was cluttered with magazines, the daily gazette, to books, leftover tea, coffee cups and cigarette stubs. Lots of little trinkets, souvenirs and paintings hung and stood from many corners and branches of the main hall, showcasing her fine taste & aesthetic. The wooden flooring slightly creaked as she walked toward the arched hallway. Desperate for some comfy and loose clothing she stepped inside her room noticing a draft.

"Hmm, where's that breeze coming from? I must have left the window open! And the blinds, better shut em' down"

She took off her work clothes, removing her loose blue blouse then taking her red skater skirt off. she reached for her comfortable PJ's when she suddenly realized that she should rather visit the shower first, since that was what she wanted all the while during the ride back home. The comfort of home brought her so much relief that it was like water to fire, it had blurred her planned chill-out activities. She walked toward the bathroom at the other end the hallway.

A slight resonance whirred inside the bathroom as she opened the door, she noticed her visage on the mirror and ran her hand through her face like it was alien to her, analyzing her skin, it was vibrant and glowing but caked under a substratum of languor and the polluting particles of the city. Her eyes still glistened its ethereal green glow as she saw them tiredly looking back at her. Her hair was much longer now, resting on her shoulders towards her breasts.

"Ugh, look at me, my face is like a mild and residue magnet. My face is about to peel off! Amy Rose, you are as dirty laundry to detergent. I know how to fix this..."

With an ebullient shift in tone she quickly sprinted toward the kitchen near the main hall searching for her favorite Cabernet Sauvignon wine for the night, picked up a Bordeaux glass and grabbed a box of matches from the cupboard and closed it with a loud bang while heading back to the bathroom. The match ignited, she lit the large cylindrical candles positioned on the long and slender candlesticks towering near the bathtub. The flame on the match was fading so she quickly grabbed another match and passed it on with the dying flame. To really set the mood she burned some incense, the spicy, rich and sweet woody scent diffused in the air, infusing her nose with a feeling of detachment from the world. The candlelight's shone, their flames still and lull, dimly lighting the corner of the bathroom. Its opaque reflections visible on the dark blue ceramic of the wall.

With a turn of the faucet a stream of hot water ran into the bathtub distorting the ambiance. She began to undress while the bathtub began to fill with refreshing water. With her right arm she unsnapped the satin violet bra, freeing her tumid, opulent and creamy breasts from the bra. Without further hesitation she pulled down her matching panties while sitting on a plastic stool. The garment rustled its way through her sleek and svelte legs until it reached her toes, with a prankish attitude she tossed it upwards with her foot till it hung from the towel rack, something she mastered over the years of bathing and cleaning and ended the deed with a roguish giggle. Bare-naked she opened the medicine cabinet to look for her favorite bath salts, with a few in hand she headed near the bathtub, it was replete with hot and soothing water.

She turned off the faucet and hit the lights. The dim candlelight pierced through the vapor trails indicated that it was hot enough. The tablets plopped into the water and without further delay she slid her leg into the water. The effervescing bubbles slightly tingled her skin, telegraphing instant gratification to her face. Her other leg joined the sensation as well as she stood in the bathtub, the steam billowed around her thighs, creeping its way up to her sumptuous behind. She bent down and submerged herself completely in the steamy water, surrendering with no defiance and melting like an ice cream in the summer heat. She let out a gratified sigh as the heat and bubbles worked their way around her joints and muscles, assuaging her exhausted frame and mind, burnishing the dust and decay of yesterday, today and tomorrow. The scent of wine diffused in the air as the ruby stream filled the tall glass, she took a whiff of its scent and let it aerate while rocking the glass in a circular motion and eventually taking modest gulps. Everything was in harmonious synergy, the candles caressed her eyes, the scent rejuvenated her tired brain and the bubbles promoted perennial relaxation. She swayed her arms in the water, watching it ebb and flow, listening to the sound of the ripples dancing in the water. It was time for a more deeper detachment, so she buttressed her head with a towel and laid supine while closing here eyes...

... Lying dormant for a good 15 minutes, after the delightful chill out phase her thick eyelashes batted open. It was time to give her body a full on rinse. She fixed her position as she leaned on to her side and grabbed her hanging loofa sponge. With a liberal amount of body wash she began burnishing and scraping through her skin, softly spreading the lather on her arms watching the suds slide and drip off them. Water splashed and churned as she stood up and applied the lather on her gleaming abdomen, grabbing tight to the sponge and sinking it on her skin in a circular motion then working her way up to her breasts leaving a thick layer of foam. She ran the saturated loofa on her pelvis then into her crotch, giving it a few sensual strokes. It was that time of the month again and her hormones were boiling these days and a lingering sexual urge waiting to be satiated so she fondled a bit with the loofa in there as she said in a rather peeved and solicited tone:

"Sonic, how could you be so blind to miss **this? **Leaving a girl like me so **horny?**"

Her sexual desires were analogous to a latent volcanic mountain, waiting to reach a climax and spew forth incinerating streams of climactic nature. Judging by her flushed cheeks and shallow breathing her continuous stimulation may have seem to stretch beyond just two or three harmless sparks to ignite a weak sexual flame. No, this was like igniting a trail of fuel ultimately leading to an inferno. The wine certainly had letup her awareness, she was in a shallow state of emotional emancipation. Tossing the loofa aside, she stroked her right hand on her vagina while she held tightly to her left breast. She was magnetized to her own self as she witnessed how the foams and suds had given her a mind blowing image. With strong circular motions she was chipping away the crusts of her everyday outer façade, leading to a tractile mantle of sexual ambivalence. With increasing sighs and moans she said in an airy tone:

"Oh this feels so good, I can always rely on my fingers when it's a dryspell down there!"

"Whoa! Better not fall and bust an arm"

With a change in stance, she put one knee on the side of the bathtub for support then grabbed the extended shower drape pole. The sloppy sounds of her hand on her vaginal wall was like music to her ears, she masterfully was conducting the technique of self-stimulation. She would smack it, rub it and caress it with a sheer article of faith. If she was to come, she needed something of a higher caliber, for all that was done till now was just the warm up phase. Spreading her legs a bit wider as she stuck a finger into her love tunnel, stopping momentarily at the G-spot she tingled it as it pulsated joy all over her body. Treading deeper the finger was encapsulated in a tight and warm haven, secreting with womanly juices. With every throb her moans grew more intermittent, one finger wasn't enough so she slid another one in to maximize the pleasure, gaping the already tight vaginal walls. She just had to climax, that was what she was working for all this time, chipping away to her molten core of flowing lust and desire.

"Oh…my god…I…I'm…going to… to cum… so bad…"

Her face and body was tightening, the hand tightened its grip on the shower curtain pole to brace the body for a summit of sexual release. She could hear her heart beat with fervent ardor, with two fingers drilling away.

"aaaaaaaaaaah, ohhhhhh my fffffffffucking goooooood I'm **cummmminggggg!**"

while moaning a roil of pleasure washed over her body, quivering and jerking spasmodically initiating a salvo of orgasms and throbbing her deepest caverns. Her body arched forward with extreme acuity, powerful enough to tear the pole and send her flying toward the tiles. Her soul was to detach and never come back again, the eyes severely closed. After spending a few minutes and enjoying her satiated state while hanging from one hand, she eventually changed her post-orgasmic stupor and decided to tend back to her sanitation while breathing very lightly. She leaned and grabbed the floating loofa while smirking at it and resumed her bath with a much satisfied look on her face. Kneeling forward to clean her legs while some of the suds and water trickled on to the floor. After several minutes of scrubbing she submerged back once again in the tub then unplugged the stopper and hopped into the shower to get any excess soap off her body and quills. Snugging her wet feet into her pink sandals she grabbed a big white towel and wrapped herself in the dryness of the fabric. The dry bath rug rustled as she rubbed her wet feet against it and finally headed toward her room. All was silent at home, the air still and monotonous but little did she know that this was the silence before the storm…

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><p><em><strong>Note: <strong>The piece of lyric at the top is "**Killer**" by **Alice Cooper**, property of Alice Cooper and Warner Bros. (damn, did I just give out a clue?)_


	2. Amy Rose in: Bleeding Me Home (pt 2)

**First of all I'd like to thank the reviewers and anyone who "favorited" and followed this story. I actually intended to wrap up the Bleeding Me Home series in this chapter but since so many ideas developed and I didn't want to create too much of a gap between my first update I decided to post part 2 of the story, part 3 will be the finale of this chronicle. Anyhow this chapter was a blast to write and some research went into the writing as well. Reviews are encouraged ;)  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Amy Rose in: Bleeding Me Home (pt. 2)<br>**

Gazing at her wet feet she stood in the hallway, eventually turning her head to the left and glancing across to view the other side of the interior. The houses lingering muteness caused a little unease in her heart, only the sound of her light breathing had disseminated the calm.

"Phew… R&R at its finest, now to change into something comfy, though I wouldn't mind sleeping naked. But I really don't want to catch a cold and shackled to the bed sniffing like a hound with a mound of snotrags."

She would talk to herself when feeling lonely, it had been months she had been disconnected from a majority of her friends. Although not a recluse, Amy missed some of her old companions, those that she wasn't in touch with, especially her ex-lovers. One of them was Shadow; it was an unlikely relationship that occurred in an unforeseen fashion but continued to bud forth in mutual understanding and harmony. Amy found him to be so mature and intellectually appealing, his stance and aura had bemused her deeply. Likewise for Shadow loneliness had dented his mental composure severely and Amy had been a source of rejuvenation, vitality and love. Albeit the Pink Rose and the Black Orchid also held incongruous beliefs, as much as the contrast attracted them to one another it also repelled them. The lack of commitment from Shadow, Amy's negative blasting of every moment of her relationship on social websites, a melange of all knowing friends, low and high expectations from both parties and the normalcy of giving up on someone led their relationship to an acerbic state until both parties decided to part for the sake of their own sanity and sustenance of their damaged friendship. She sometimes would remember the ups and downs of those days and just reflect in a bitter sweet manner, sometimes she would shed a tear or two when she badly needed to be loved and caressed.

Without further delay she entered back into her room to find it in its not so tidy format. Some of her clothes hung from the computer chair with a backpack resting on it while others were tossed to all four corners of her kingdom. Panties and bra's protruding from underneath her bedside, perfume and bodysprays some neatly placed on the top of her drawer and others drifting in the chaos. Shoes of all sort and kind of dress code sticking out from ajar boxes and some pairs laying idle. Record sleeves scattered around her LP player and a headstock of a bass guitar sticking from underneath her crumpled blanket, something Mina had given to her as a birthday gift and most saliently of all was a Ziploc bag full of cannabis ordered from a friend – Charmy – resting near her bedside lamp from the other day which she had forgotten to stash. Charmy's hyperactive wonderment sometimes led him to be the most daring in trying new activities, however uncanny and audacious they may seem. He would operate in secrecy, planting and cultivating the most "killer weed" and bantering on about how "hydroponics is the best way to grow the ganja". If the Chaotix found him conspicuously baked he would seriously "bee in deep shit" as he would jest to Amy with his continuing puerility.

Although Amy was reluctant at first and deeply alarmed by Charmy's daunting offer, saying she preferred smoking a cigarette once in a while but Charmy rebutted by saying "root is elevator music yo!" She decided to take a puff off a joint after being goaded to a nerve-racking state by the bee. These days she was roped in and would smoke a joint every now & then. Actually, seeing the bag shining like a diamond in the rough she decided to "blaze" in a moment or two as Charmy would say. Amy had gone through a psychological metamorphosis these past few months, she wasn't as malleable as the bygone days and demanded more independence but also questioned ferociously. Not a follower anymore, she was seeking individualism and was really beginning to question political authority. Is it by nature that the stronger have natural authority over the weaker? And is this jurisprudence legitimate as long as it is beneficent for the weak? But even if the weak are allowed to be judges of whether they benefit from authority does this mean this power is legitimate if they accept it? These questions were like a snowball tumbling down a mountain, accumulating in mass as it pushed further and further in her idea box. For once in her life she wanted to retaliate against the law and take a dare.

Eyeing the chaos her lips opened: "If a camel were to live in this room, it surely would've been lost also"

The towel chafed her skin as it dried its soft and glaring surface, collecting any trailing water droplets. Working its way through her underarms and every limb and joint in her body. Tossing the towel aside she decided to liven the lonely mood of the hour. She unlocked her mini safe box and took out a tiny metallic container, it was a silver cigarette case adorned with floral engravings. With a click she unlatched it, opening it symmetrically into two halves. Each side stored one row of marijuana cigars held in place by a leather strap. Thanks to Charmy's tutoring she "wasn't too shabby" as he would say in rolling a blunt. By a miraculous chance she found her Zippo lighter and burnt that blunt to life. Her eyes squinted as she vauntingly inhaled a good amount of it into her lungs, exhaling the smoke as she saw herself in the long mirror leaning against the drawer staring buck naked through the circulating filter of smoke. Looking down while taking a few other tokes she noticed her vinyl collection in a cardboard box.

"No pot is complete with a good tune"

She knelt down ogling through her vinyl collection to look for a record to cheer her up, too many blunders and absurdities had crept in today.

"Ooooh, Al Green, Let's Stay Together. This is the hit for a wandering soul like me"

She pulled the vinyl from its sleeve and placed the needle on the disc. The music vibrated in the air, not to say that it didn't prevent Amy from getting into a slow and sexy dancing mood. With another quick toke and a slow exhale she started gyrating her hips slowly to the laid back rhythm section of the song. Taking light steps amongst the smoke and prancing lightly toward her deodorant spray can. She picked it up and treated it like a microphone, swaying back and forth as she started to sing with the song:

**"I, I'm so in love with you  
>Whatever you want to do is all right with me"<strong>

She stretched her arm in the air in a dramatic fashion finally extending it on the counters ledge while eyeing the room sensually and singing to her imaginary crowd.

"**Cause you make me feel so brand new  
>And I want to spend my life with you"<strong>

Pushing herself off the counter and performing a twirl she knelt on one knee while singing in to her tin can microphone eyeing the ceiling.

"**Let me say that since, baby, since we've been together  
>Ooh, Loving you forever is what I need"<strong>

She sat on her knees taking another smoke while artfully leaning her flexible back parallel to the floor and entangling her arms playfully past her head.

"**Oh let me be the one you come running to  
>I'll never be untrue"<strong>

Lying supine, she contracted and released her belly like a belly dancer would and eventually leaned on her side while sultrily running her index finger on the wooden flooring.

"**Ooh baby let's, let's stay together  
>Lovin' you whether, whether<br>Times are good or bad, happy or sad, alright, oh yeah  
>Whether times are good or bad, happy or sad"<strong>

Sprinting up into the air, she leaned her back against the wall while slowly sliding down in a suggestive manner singing in a begging tone.

"**Oh tell me why, why, why, why, why, why  
>Why people break up, turn around and make up<br>I can't see, you never, never, never do that to me  
>You better not do, staying around you is all I<br>All these eyes will ever see"**

Heading toward her leather club chair she sat on top of its back spreading her arms and legs akimbo while slowly gyrating her torso left and right watching her surroundings in a fervent glare.

"**Why won't you say that me, everybody says  
>That let's, let's stay together<br>Lovin' you whether, whether  
>Times are good or bad, happy or sad"<strong>

She crept down the chair and in a dancing manner she tiptoed her way toward her bed while dodging all her belongings on the floor in and puffing more pot.

"**Everybody says, "Let's, let's stay together  
>I'll keep on lovin' you whether, whether<br>Times are, oh times are good or times are bad  
>Whether, whether good or bad, happy or sad<br>Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah"**

Tossing the so called "microphone" aside and placing the marijuana cigar on her lips she pulled her blanket aside forcefully and picked up the bass guitar while standing on the mattress and pretending to play along to the chilled groove of the song with a whimsical display of body language and emotion till the song pretty much ended.

**CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!**

Suddenly she snapped with utter shock and her pupils shrank in an instinctive response, a burning sensation shot through her gut. Someone stood there kneeling against the door jamb, a maelstrom of questions cycled ferociously in her head "Who is this man! What is he doing in my house! How long has he been watching me naked?" In the hurly-burly of shock she was relieved that the bass guitar's big wooden body had covered her privates but her breasts were obvious to the eye of our spectator.

The figure spoke with a deep and throaty tone "Quite a show you've put on here for yourself, sorry I didn't get my tickets and sneaked pass the backstage"

In a sudden flash of hot burning rage "You sick motherfucker! What the fuck are you doing in my house! Answer me this second before I seriously consider acting a fool!"

"Where is your civility? That is not the correct conduct to treat a guest who has set foot on your domicile now is it? With that language nothing is going to be solved young lady" He said nonchalantly.

"You want civility? Civility is that I seriously consider killing you for intruding my house! This is a violation of personal privacy and property you sick fuck! Or you don't seem to get that into your thick noggin you wretched piece of scum!"

"A man who has nothing to lose isn't convinced by your mere words, they are just husks burning mercilessly the moment they escape from your soft lips"

Just what was this apparition? Another homicidal murderer on the loose? Another monstrosity bred by the crime and corruption of the city seeking redemption through rage and slaughter? Someone who has lost his name and identity? All of these questions incinerated her synapses as she sensed fear slowly wash over her.

"I don't give a diddly-shit on where you stand with whatever diseased thoughts you have you dick sucker! I'm going to call the police and send your filthy existence to rot in prison!" Amy spat in vituperation.

Taking two tiny steps and smirking with a hanging head and a hands in his pocket he said "I concur, I'm afraid I feel the same way Amy Rose but a mind can be evil without being abnormal. Also officer Kojak is savoring on his chocolate glazed donut fattening his gluttonous ass, he seriously has no regard for you."

Engulfed in white hot rage, she was even more confused when he stated her name, had she been followed? How long had she been followed? "How do you know my name? Have you been stalking me this whole time you perverted piece of shit!"

"Your naiveté is contemptible, if you think you can spot a homicidal killer you are sadly mistaken my rose. People may sidestep to a rowdy and filthy hobo, they may also prevent face to face confrontations with the mentally challenged but a vigilant person is someone who eyes the well-dressed. Give a killer a suit and tie and he will look like ten other men"

Suit and tie might've been an understatement, the killer was attired in a black colored 80's new wave suit, followed by a big red tie and a pearly white oxford shirt finished by dark wool and polyester pants. The burnt sienna shoes he had on were very formal, chic and smart; you could see them glistening from afar. Finishing it all off were two leather gloves snugly fit into his hands.

His physical structure appeared flexible and nimble resembling that of an acrobat. His chest bowed outward displaying his able-bodied anatomy. He didn't have any big and bulky muscles like body builders, but they were extended to the sides and made his arms look skinny but well-built. The serpent's skin had a tortoise shell texture. Starting from just above his eyes three parabolic spikes increasing in length and width were pointing out from his head as they went further behind his forehead gave him a venomous stature. A thick black eye liner was rimmed around the larger sides of his eyes and his ebon pupil was encircled by a burning deep yellow iris. To Amy all of these features invoked a daunted feeling inside her, he seemed like a formidable and ruthless killer.

"I don't know how many innocent lives you have deceived and taken but the naiveté you speak of certainly does not exist in me. You have chosen the wrong person to fuck with you psychopath"

"Hahahaha, a wonderful taunt but psychopath would be putting it mildly. You have just disproven your surmise, a killer doesn't blindly choose his victims. The victim must have a certain trait that a killer wants to possess and in you I see so much beauty and innocence that I want to possess that seeing you half naked like this makes me tick even more viciously! Yes my timing couldn't have been better!" the specter malevolently hissed as his serpent tongue showed itself.

The girl in front of him was just an image, a desire, not a sentient person but just an objectification. Indeed the psyche of the killer had manifested to see things as objects. Amy was deeply terrified now, this wasn't your average joe crook, he was homicidal and mostly disturbing of all was that he was a sadistic lust murderer. She was pale as a ghost, her fingers had run completely cold and numb and the room felt extremely cold, beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead. She could remember reading things on serial killers on newspapers and how some were of the utmost ultraviolent. Lustmord was identified as a type of killer who had an overt desire to engage in killing triggers involving bizarre sexual fantasies, fantasies that had crystalized in the dark minds of the insane. She had to do something, she just couldn't sit there as a feast to his murderous predator, her condition was palpably bad: phazed out from smoking weed and pretty much standing bare naked against a homicidal predator, she was at a complete disadvantage. She had no choice but to follow her instincts: fight or flight! Well flight was out of the questions since she was cornered so fight seemed like the only modus operandi… to maybe even murder him. That was a frightening train of thought, she had never killed anyone in her life, let alone harm anyone on bad intent but maybe there was blood waiting to be spilt.

She already had a pretty sturdy weapon in her hand, the bass guitar was not light and the hard dense wood could crack open any thick skull yet it was too big and definitely not to be used as a battering ram or baseball bat! It was a musical instrument bought as a birthday present meant to bring joy and pleasure but now it was being used as a bludgeoning instrument, something all too familiar to her. It had already saddened her that she had to smash a birthday present to pieces! She had been following her lessons on a good steady basis and could drop a groovy bassline on a funky drum track. All of this and much more infuriated her so much that she could strangle and maim anything in front of her, how dare he walk just right in and arrogate her life as his, she can't stay silent to such indignation. Her body was trembling now, a cocktail of cortisol and adrenaline was secreting from her adrenal gland. She couldn't break now, she shan't break! Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die motherfucker… in a psychotic oscillation that was all that was repeating in her head. She suddenly eyed him truculently while unstrapping the instrument:

"They say that blood is one of the toughest stains to remove. **I'm** going to do you a favor after I **kill** you, **civility** states that since you have **such a nice suit** I will be the one who takes your **bloody clothes and hands them to the laundry once I'm through with your existence!** I'll have to bloody them up for good to give the best wash possible!" She lunged herself onto the air from the springy mattress and aimed the big and wide body of the instrument against her enemy ready to deliver a heavy blow.

"**AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH"**

The reptile watched with a rather amazed expression, his victim may not have been such easy prey after all, her feistiness amused him. With a sturdy swing she attacked him but he was no amateur, with alacrity he ducked the deadly blow that could've cost his awareness. Now that he had an opening he butted forth with speed but Amy was agile enough to know she had created an opening. Lying close to her feet were her white high heels she had tossed around after coming back home completely swoozled - and a margin away from peeing her pants - from a party she had attended the other day. Since she had been so good with her feet (chpt. 1 reference!) she kicked the pointy ass shoe toward him so he could be distracted. The shoe collided to his hard chest and bounced off but was enough to distract him in the process and give her time to recollect herself while quickly bouncing back.

"A cheap move! But I'm really starting to like you, I love a woman who can fight! The resistance makes me even more creative with my killing ritual!"

"Aim low, score high!" She spat while the two looked eyeball to eyeball.

The predator quickly took out a military combat knife, enough to pierce one's guts and leave their entrails hanging. "Seeing your naked state wouldn't you agree that it would be a disgrace to render my knife as useless? It would be unfair to leave your skin unfulfilled by the touch of cold steel, leaving it in such a pristine state!"

Amy wasn't surprised, a killer always has a knife but it caused so much fear when she saw the dagger glistening lividly in her adversary's hand. She felt so 'naked' and defenseless, why wasn't there anybody to help? With a swift move the reptile tried to swipe the blade against her bare abdomen

"Don't worry, I won't cut you up with one swipe! My plans require time" He cackled ferociously.

She winced and let out an acute groan, the blade managed to shallowly slice a piece of skin off her abdomen, a current of blood appeared as the quick cut left its insignia. Amy's so called weapon was too much of a disadvantage, it was heavy and too bulky and most of all it wasn't even designed to use as a killing machine. All of this slowed her reaction time, she might've just toss it aside but decided to take one more try just like she would with her former Piko Piko Hammer. If she was to massacre now was the time for the reptiles arms were wide open after the quick sweep of the knife.

"You motherfucker! That cut will be nothing compared to the bludgeoning you are going to receive you vile piece of shit!"

She licked her lips and like a slugger swung that instrument hoping for a home run more like a blood run that is. With a screaming battle cry she yelled:

**"Thanks for not buying me a GRAND PIANO Mina!"**

The big bulky body collided with the killer's side and offed his balance toward the drawer. The hard rock maple neck snapped off the instrument dangling in the air as it was clumsily held by the strings. A sanguine look suddenly appeared on her face as she realized she had hit him. Unknown to her, in a snap he had recuperated with extreme fury and leaped against Amy pinning her down against the ground, was everything said and done?

* * *

><p><em>"<strong>Let's Stay Together" <strong>is property of Al Green and Hi Records. It's a really good song by the way, I suggest you guys check it out._

I'd like to thank hours of music by DJ Tarkan for helping me sit my ass down and write this stuff!


	3. Amy Rose in: Bleeding Me Home (pt 3)

**Holy hell I love this chapter, I had a freakin blast writing this one way more than the previous two. It's long folks, fasten your seat belts for the DRAMATICA!**

**Note: Italics are POV, normal font is third person.**

**Warning: this chapter is very graphic and ruthless. Not for the faint of heart.**

* * *

><p><strong>Amy Rose in: Bleeding Me Home Pt. 3<strong>

_"FUCK FUCK FUCK! This son of a bitch is hard as a fucking rock!"_

That was all that was going through her head, she was pinned down against the floor of her untidy bedroom. Something was seriously sticking into her back causing so much uncomfort she just didn't know what it was.

She tried to budge ferociously but once again luck was not on Amy's side, he was just too strong. "GET OFF OF ME! ...huh… WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKER! I swear the first thing that I'm going to do when I'm done with you is dispose your corpse, secondly I'm going to clean all the blood and lastly throw it in a dumpster!" while leaning on her he watched her as she whined, burning tears were beginning to roll down her fragile cheeks.

"Leave that job to me Miss Amy Rose for I may be messy in my butchering ritual but I am a very tidy man and pay the utmost attention to decorum!" He hissed as his tongue flickered in the air, tasting her depravity and hopelessness, just the exact ingredients he was looking for. He cupped a single hand on her face wiping a trail of tear off her face.

"Don't cry..."

"Cooperate with me or things may hurt" she had no choice but to, enslaved and in the lair of the beast at her own home, this was her darkest hour. He took a roll of masking tape from his coat, Amy screamed as she saw him unroll a large piece of gray tape.

"NOOOOOO-MMMPH" His hand had muffled her clamorous screaming. She wiggled and gesticulated with such vehemence plummeting her energy. He had sit on top of her waist dominating her completely. With enough piece of the tape hanging from the roll he quickly tore a patch of tape with his cutting teeth and tacked it on her lips.

"Don't cry! Always love the one's you are to hurt for I am a passion killer with no time to mourn." He slapped her on her face, her skin quickly reddening in a pool of clear and healthy skin. She winced and let out a muffled cry.

"Time to bind you so you don't continue to be such of a hindrance, you seem to be wishing for a quicker death!" With that said he took out a sturdy rope and tied her hand, this time she was cooperating, cooperating in her infinite misery. "That's a good girl, like a lamb led to the slaughter"

Tears were now bursting from her eyes. Why her? She always thought these incidents always happened to other misfortunate people not her. The mind can fool and our judgments can be frivolous, sometimes we become so arrogant that we feel invincible, inviolable and with this mindset we continue to misjudge and gossip about everyone and everything, falling into a vicious cycle of mindcrimes. Accepting our minds as an apotheosis for correct behavior with our over inflated egos but when are victims we cry for innocence, standing alone and crying for help.

He picked her up as now he had bondaged her and sat her on her computer chair. He gave the chair a spin and watching her in episodes as she cowered and stifled, her tears glistening in ephemerality each time light refracted through each pure tear.

"Now, what to do with you" The beast of a lizard spoke as he leaned his head to a side while playing with his chin. He walked to the left and right of the room viewing all the trimming and trappings.

"I never thought you'd be such an untidy little bitch, but I surely enjoy the paintings. Are these done by you dear?"

She muffled trying to imply something. "What kind of answer is that? You unintelligent whore don't you know how gestures work? YOU NOD when you agree with something!"

She nodded…

"Such lovely paintings, we are both artists don't you agree? I'm an artisan of the morgue and a virtuoso of the visceral. Death is what delineates my picturesque! Our approaches are the same but for me the flesh is my canvas to carve at will"

He opened the side of his coat, holstered inside laid many sharp contraptions from precise mini scalpels to bulldog forceps glistening sharply under the lamp. Each was compartmentalized and located in custom straps and holders.

"You know what my favorite tool is? It's the lancet, attached by a No.18 blade! Used for deep cuts and scraping. But don't worry I don't like to butcher my victims, I like to dissect and reform and for that reason I represent you the No. 15C blade. Used for working with the chest during cardiac surgery and commonly used to make the distal arteriotomy during coronary artery bypass grafting. I like to tenderize my meat just like a chef would."

The tape patched over her mouth was completely soaked by her incessant sobbing and the pain from the gash on her abdomen which had tenderized. Traumatized and helpless time passed by as she breathed heavily her last breaths. What pain would it take to satisfy his abominable appetite?

The aggressor stretched his leather gloves like a surgeon would before a surgery picking up the bladeless scalpel and clicking the glaring blade into the slot, viewing it with complete mental keenness.

"_eeny meeny miny moe _

_catch a victim by the toe _

_if she screams let her go _

_eeny meeny miny moe"  
><em>  
>He sung the counting out rhyme while moving his finger in the air going randomly deciding which limb he would choose as his "canvas". "Ah, the right upper arm! A very juicy portion, wonderful for my blade to lick"<p>

He ran the blade slowly on the flesh, constantly followed by the surge of blood flowing around the narrow confinement of her limb. She shivered as the burning blade run its course, the cut went from hot to cold, oscillating in pain. The next incision was long, without further delay and a hand on her breast he vertically guided the blade between her breasts and through the sensitive landscape of her milka flesh. Amy screamed in agony, his bestial perversions were arising and an astonishing rate, she was a living dissection. Her legs were shut tight for she abhorred the thought of the blade heading toward her vagina. He stopped right at her pelvis and took a stand back.

"Wonderful strokes, wouldn't you agree?"

She wimpered, didn't even have the nerve to look down into the crimson landscape. "CRITIQUE MY ART! BE GRATEFUL THAT I HAVEN'T SLIT YOUR GUTS!" She yelped as he ripped the tape off her mouth forcing her to look down. She sobbed vehemently seeing her vital fluids flowing freely "Please… Please… s-s-s-stop thi-this ma-ma-ma madness…"

"I feel nothing, the world has left me cold. The more I see, the more I hear it all leads me to believe in nothing. Existence is a stigma that must be eradicated and my misanthropy stems from my observances of my contemporaries. I am amused by their presumption, their vanity, their hypocrisy, or their unconscious villainy, by their intellectual and moral weakness. I am out to cull these pitiful beings, killing is the only pathway for salvation! For I cannot but conclude that we are the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the earth. I am not prejudice in my killing for it is everyone who I equally hate"

The outlook of the killer was maybe rather justifiable? Was anger the master of his plans he had rationally deliberated to carry on? This is his resolve, decisions that come about as a result of giving weight to resentment on one hand and sympathy on the other hand. Anger is in control of him, it is what gives reasoning to his killing.

"b-b-b-but what…wh…what…have…I…d-d-d-done?"

All of his claims meant nothing to Amy, how can she be justified to allow herself to accept her own death?

"That is what everyone says my dear, but people can't go on forever claiming purity and innocence can they?"

"Why do don't you just kill yourself! And rid yourself from the inhumanity that you speak of!" She spat in an acidic tone while sobbing even more.

"If I kill myself nothing will be solved, humanity will fester and rot and not a messiah to lead them! For I AM THE MESSIAH, the avenger of the weak and bedridden by the virus of the current state of events. Bringing forth a sacrificial annihilation, purification by fire!"

With truculence he incited his sacrosanct revelation, fury had enslaved his mind. For he was indoctrinated and blind. His calm tone had now shifted into that of a demon, the serpent was aroused by the blood he witnessed.

He took out the 18c blade and gashed her other arm. Amy couldn't scream for the pain was too much to bear, she felt like she was about to faint, she was losing blood and there was nothing to stop the blood, she needed a tourniquet.

"This isn't even half of what I'm possible of inflicting! In my book of torture there exists an apex of torture, it's an experiment. I'll start off by posing an interesting fact. Did you know that a decapitated head can see for about 10 seconds? My personal favorite is when I quickly take the head and hold it to witness its motionless body! You should see the look on such a face, it engulfs such lust in me!"

"I want to try something different, let's try something bigger and better! But seeing that I do not holster any big blades with myself I always tend to visit my victims kitchen where there is always a big chef's knife! No matter wherever I go it seems I like their kitchen best! I do hope you are a good cook for every good cook always uses the vastest of materials for a wonderful meal! Do you have any cleavers? Well I'd better go find out myself… don't run…" he gestured at Amy like a little child and finished his sentence with a jocose manner.

* * *

><p><strong>POVTP SHIFT:**

_Ngh…I must do something fast! Amy, your life depends on how you act in these few minutes that you have! No…No time for suffering! What to do? WHAT TO DO? I have to untie this rope quickly then escape out the backdoor emergency flight stairs for I have no chance of beating this shit stain! Ugh, it's so hard to move, goddammit! Maybe if I just turn the chair I might find something on the table that is of use! There's always something on my cluttered desk!_

Causing torque with her feet she barely managed to spin the chair 180 degrees to look for something. Suddenly something glistened!

_My zippo lighter! YES! I just have to get up now, that coldblooded excuse for a living being has tied my pretty well! But little does he know that I'm a formidable fighter! A tough little rose who can be sometimes black as the night! _

By luck she hadn't been bound to the chair. She struggled fiercely but managed to lift herself off the chair, looking at her abdomen and hands. She could see the blood dripping and sliding down from between her legs. She could feel tears welling deep inside her eyes.

_No…No Amy! I…I mustn't… no time for tears, no time for prayers for, god has always neglected me! _

_It's good that I had that smoke today for if not for that my lighter would've definitely been lost in the back of the desk. Now to pick that thing up!_

She knelt forward struggling to pick up the silver lighter, hopefully it was near the edge of her desk. Her hands had been handicapped to work with but she managed to hold the lighter in both of her cupped hands with blood running between her fingers. The steel had been stained by the running blood.

_I just somehow have to burn the rope off my hands first. Fuckin' lighter, ah' there we go! _

She repositioned the lighter in an upright stance ready to do some burn away the rope and breathed heavily.

_I just hope I don't burn myself but I think I have gone beyond my threshold of pain so minor burns are nothing.  
><em>

She flicked the lighter open and positioned her thumb on the wheel and gave it a few good spins. She sensed the heat as it gifted a sense of solace on her pale, cold and fear trodden skin.

_Ok, now I just don't have to make a move and slightly cup my hands upward. Ngh… _

The flame had caressed her skin causing her to recoil in pain but she held firm with all her will.

_Yes that damn rope is burning, burn son of a bitch c'mon. Oww, a droplet of sweat just went into my! It burns! From cut's to burns, what next?_ Her forehead was meandering with streams of sweat, her body managing to recuperate into her current tribulation. Smoke billowed in the room as the flame burned its way reaching to the core of the stiff knot that held her hands captive.

_FASTER! FASTER!  
><em>

The flame had eaten its way into the core of the knot and was slowly about to determine her fate.

_Fuck, I don't have much time! I think it's burned enough! Time to give things a tear!_

With brute force she tore the rope and quickly tossed it aside. Fire was burning in her eyes, retribution was to be served… she looked at the her bleeding arm, the upper section of the wound had to be pressurized to prevent further blood loss.

_I gotta tie that rope above my arm, it seems like the only way to prevent further blood loss. _

She knelt down and picked up the rope using the table's ledge for support since her legs were still tied. Fastening the overhand knot with her teeth as she managed to successfully block the upper section of her arm.

_This is just part one of my problem, how the fuck am I going to open that son of a bitch knot down there? _

Suddenly she could hear clanking noises coming from the far end of her home. The killer was searching viciously for his prized possession, the cleaver for a body awaiting to be mutilated.

_SHIT! I don't have enough time to untie that kidney busting knot! SEARCH AMY! SEARCH! There must be something here that could release me from the clutch of creeping death. I don't want to die, there is still so much I want in life, so many wishes and dreams, so many unfulfilled needs, and I must stay true to my promises I made to myself! I must live to live!_

Abruptly she spotted her silver cigarette case, a thunderous bolt of thought blitzed through mind. Her eyes dilated in fear but relief at the same time, ambivalence washed over her.

_SHADOWS GUN!_

In a split second her mind analyzed that something was secreted in the secret compartment of her private safe where she took her cigarette case from. Her proposed plan to abscond didn't seem to be going to well, she had to kill for the first time in her life. Feel the embossed texture of a pistol on her hands and give the gift of death to her adversary.

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback<strong>

It was a few years back, when Amy and Shadow were together and of all the events and good times they had shared with each other today was of utmost importance. It was Amy's birthday and Shadow while not being the most sedulous party planner had managed to invite a good number of their good friends with the help of Rouge to gather around and enjoy her beloved's anniversary. He had reserved a night to party out at Rouge's club which was indeed one of the most salient spots to go clubbing and dancing.

At the height of the party everybody was on the dance floor, grooving and shaking to the blasting bass and captivating music of the hour. Amy had already danced her heart out to this point, so she was swaying back and forth gently beside the bar, taking sips from her Gin Ricky while the ice cubes rattled in the air as she signaled a cheer to Knuckles who had seriously burst out of his arrogant stubborn shell and was dancing the night away with Rouge. If there was one thing that could deactivate Knuckles recalcitrant mood it was alcohol.

"Hey baby, don't you want to dance some more" Shadow jived in

"Well look at you Shads, I never knew you were such a party animal" Amy said slyly as she put his arms around him.

"And I never knew how much the innocent Amy Rose was such an alchy!" He joked back, seeing that her cheeks had gone red and her breath nearly didn't smell as good as always and reeked of alcohol.

"Well then I guess it's at times like these we really get to know each other, don't we?" She said while tapping Shadow's nose.

"Touché, enough talking though woman! It's time to dance!"

"Oh! But Shadow my legs are about to fall off! Don't you wanna give your girlfriend some slack?"

"Slack? It's your birthday, if there's one person who should be out and about on the floor it's you! So stop being a party enema and get in!"

"Party enema? Hah! Look who's talking, Mr. Normally Grumpy I'm Too Cool to Dance!"

He swiped her off her feet cradling her in his hands and eyed her suggestively with the utmost authority.

"Hahahaha, Shadow! My drink is spilling everywhere!" She screamed and laughed with exuberance.

"Cedric! Take this drink, this girl complains too much!"

Cedric was Rouge's assistant at the club who worked part-time at as a bartender, famous for his dexterity and speed in creating the most explosive drinks. He was a hipster leopard with a beanie hat and funky sunshades, which everybody would tease him playfully for not taking them off even in the dark and dim atmosphere of the club.

"Yeah dude!"

"Oh my God! Is that Cosmic Girl by Jamiroquai? I freakin' love this song!" Amy screamed in joy!

With that Shadow carried her into the hodge-podge of the 50 plus guests who were getting down in the dance floor and mixed themselves in the festivity of the hour.

It was 3:30 AM and the party had eventually died down after the blowing of the birthday cake and the unwrapping of gifts and such, with nearly no one left Shadow and Amy left the club.

"I'll drive you home but there's something I want to give to you Amy" Shadow calmly said to her as he held her hands while walking towards his red Noble M600 sports car.

"Aw, Shads! You speak as if you haven't done enough for me! I'm really about to melt out of my indebtedness!"

"Hush, don't say that Amy. You are not in debt, love is not a contract of give and take. It's of unconditional love and everything I've done today is not because I'm obliged to, it's because I truly believe you deserve it."

"Awwww! Shadow! Let me give you kiss!" With that she kissed him on the lips and hugged him while she placed her head on his chest. "I'm really eager to see what else you have gotten me!"

"Sit in the car and I'll show you!"

They both got in the car, Shadow knelt and stretched his hand towards the glove box taking something in the form of a rather big and heavy looking black box with a red ribbon on it.

"Open it"

"Whoa, this is rather heavy. I wonder what's inside!"

With that said she eagerly opened the box as the moonlight shone off a shiny object in the box.

"Shadow… you got me a… gun!" She said in shock as her eyes dilated.

Inside the black case laid a Kahr P380 semi-automatic pistol which was customized with a small metal engraving reading "From Shadow to Amy"

Amy didn't know what to say, she was appalled and somewhat dismayed.

"Well do you like it?"

"Shadow…I…I…don't know what to say! It's a beautiful gun but I… I… Don't get me wrong Shadow, I'm trying to say this in the nicest way possible but a gun…a gun for a birthday present?"

"So? I use them all the time in my job. You don't how dangerous Station Square is, you need to protect yourself Amy while I'm not around. The city is filled with degenerates and low lives, rapists, killers and gazoonies."

"Yes… but Shadow… I don't know how I feel about this! It just…just…feels so foreign to me! I appreciate the fact that you care about me but I think you are over reacting."

Shadow was getting a bit angry with Amy's defensive stance

"Foreign? That's natural. I've signed you up for classes, from Tuesday you will come with me to the G.U.N. shooting academy. I will be your personal trainer. Everything's fine Amy don't fret"

"No, no, no, no, noooo you don't understand Shadow! A gun isn't an appropriate gift because it has a negative connotation! I'm sorry Shadow but I have to refuse your gift! And to partake in the shooting classes!"

With a sigh Shadow stared deep into the indefinite streetscape in front of him as he gripped the steering wheel in anger. An awkward silence had filled the interior of the car, specs of rain drizzled faintly on the windshield as a faint wind blew.

"Shadow… aren't you going to say something?"

He switched the engine of the car as it burst to life and smashed his feet on the steel pedal, the car accelerating fast.

"Shadow! Are you OK? What are you doing?!" Amy recoiled as she felt butterfly's in her stomach because of the car's powerful torque.

He gestured her to shush as he put his fingers on his lips!

"SHADOW! Would you at least drive SLOWLY! It's dangerous!"

"You don't know anything about danger! That gun is not the gift of death! It's a gift of life! You are too naïve to understand but I will show you now that you are gravely mistaken."

With that said he reached the intersection and performed a drift to his left then suddenly jammed the brakes and adeptly shifted the steering wheel to the right entering a sequestered alley.

"Get up!" His leather jacket rustled as he got out of the sports car. Leaving the car in a dormant state as its exhaust pipes roared silently.

Amy was shocked and frightened, was Shadow gone mad? She saw him walk forward near a dumpster and pick up a few empty beer bottles and placing them on a brick wall ledge. He walked toward her and opened the door.

"Didn't you hear me Amy? Get up!"

"Shadow what the hell are you up to?"

"Amy, can you at least in the course of these past 5 minutes listen to me for once! You know I will never hurt you, trust me!" He extended his hands forward in a welcoming but serious stance.

"Oh and before you do, bring your gun with you!"

Amy grimaced at Shadow "Ok... I just hope this thing doesn't fire by itself leaving me like a dead man on my birthday!"

"Don't worry, its safety lock is on. You don't know jack about guns Amy but I'm going to show you!"

She picked up the gun and gazed at it while it hung from her hand as she walked toward where Shadow was headed. It felt of alien origin but the compactness of the gun fit perfectly in her hands.

"Stand back and watch!" Shadow said as he stood a few feet away from the beer bottles. He fixed his feet and centered his positioning as he drew his SIG Sauer 1911 Nightmare semi-automatic pistol. Extending his arms he tilted his head for a sharp aim and fired 5 quick shots in succession shattering all of the bottles.

"YIKES!" Amy grabbed her ears in fright, flinching and squinting watching him fire the rounds with quick precision, she had never seen her boyfriend with a gun. _"Damn, he's a pro!"_

"Did you learn? I don't think so but in any case you have to test it here and now!" Shadow joked.

Amy gulped "Shadow! The noise! Don't you think it'll arouse suspicion? Besides I'm too scared!"

"Don't worry, I used to practice here when I was a beginner, most of the buildings are dilapidated and empty. That's exactly why I bought you a gun Amy, you are too frightened! You must shed your fear!"

With that said he picked up one big whiskey bottle and placed it on the center of the ledge.

"Now come here and give it a try! You won't understand if you don't give it a try won't you?"

"Ugh!...OK! I give up!" Amy said in a surrendering tone.

"Come and stand where I'm standing in front of, good, I'm going to show you how to properly hold a gun we'll go through details when we go to classes together but I'm going to give a general description. Carefully pick up your gun" Shadow explained as he stood behind Amy guiding her hand from behind

"90% of people don't know how to properly hold a gun. You don't need to extend your arms out fully and rigidly, that's what you see in the movies. When you draw your weapon your arm should be slightly bent to have some flexibility and to disengage easily, plus the longer you stick it out the more fatigue you'll feel in your arms which will affect your shot"

"What does disengage mean?"

"It means to bring your fire arm down and be on standby"

"As for hand positioning insert the grip of the pistol into the web of your dominant hand. With your thumb on one side of the grip, keep your middle, ring, and pinky fingers curled securely around the other side just below the trigger guard. Your index should be resting on the other side of the gun. It's as if you are impersonating the firing of a gun, much like a kid would." Shadow gave a discerning glance and monitored her position and fixed some of her errors.

"Good, now what you want to do right now is called marrying your thumbs. Bring your free hand and meet the thumbs right on the side of the weapon, make sure they are clear of the slide and hammer or you'll injure yourself. All you are doing is you are rapping your fingers around your other three fingers and meeting your thumbs. This action steadies your gun. Like this you see"

He showed her the proper method to hold the gun. Amy nodded in advance and emulated his hand positioning.

"Now I'm going to teach you how to keep yourself stationed while you want to fire at your target. First of all you don't want to open your feet wider than your shoulders. Your feet should be shoulder-width apart" Placing his hands on her hips "Your hip is your base and the center of gravity, you must be able to stand in a stable position because evidently you don't want to fall and lose balance and end up dead!"

"Uhum…OK" Amy said with uncertainty

"Secondly, don't stand flat footed! One can easily shove you! Stay on the balls of your feet somewhat like a boxer would. This gives you better movement and momentum. Bring one foot back and bend your knees and now your center of gravity has altered, now you can move and bend and counter. Combined with my first advice you can easily lean left and right and react to the subject's actions."

With that said Amy adjusted herself based on Shadow's descriptions, she was somewhat captivated and interested as she joked facetiously "Shadow I never knew you were such a fine and freak daddy teacher, just seeing you fire those bullets – while I literally freaked out – was really dangerous, in a good way!"

"Thanks for the compliment, and you are one fine attentive student! and may I say you look really foxy with a gun?"

"But you don't look foxy at all when you are wearing a cooking apron and acting like a total yutz in the kitchen with the cooking utensils. I'll attend the shooting academy classes on one condition!"

"And what may that be oh graceful rose?" he said to her as he put his head on her shoulder and whispered into her ear.

"I have to teach you how to cook!" Amy said as she eyed his head on her left.

"Bahahaha! You thought a gun was all badass, wait till you learn how to mince and dice with a kitchen knife without losing your fingers!"

"Ugh! What have I gotten myself into? OK fine, let's just get on with the aim!"

"Ok, listen up soldier! It's time to aim the gun. First you have to align the front sight with the rear sight, look with your dominant eye while closing the other. Hmm yes that isn't bad, just a little to the top"

"Develop you sight picture!"

"What does that mean?"

"Most people get confused on where should they focus their eyes? The sight or the target? The front sight is the most important part of the sight picture. The target and rear sight may seem fuzzy by focusing on the front sight, maintaining this sight picture is the most accurate way of shooting. The front sight should just be below the point of impact"

"Ok, is everything clear by now Ames?"

"I think so…"

"Fix your gun on the target and focus on the front sight"

"Load your gun, and unlock the safety at the left. Since your pistol is a semi-automatic you must load a round into the chamber. Pull back and release the slide, like this"

"OK!" Amy gulped, she was starting to sweat.

"Now to fire the gun!"

"Shadow…I'm scared will this thing fly off and hit my face?"

"No, don't worry, just hold still to your gun. It doesn't have a strong wallop, it's got .38 ACP rounds. And remember the bigger the handcannon the stronger the kick"

"Control your breathing, the best time to shoot is when you exhale so take a few deep breaths" Shadow said as he tapped on her belly.

"Ok Amy! This is it, squeeze the trigger firmly but before you do let me tell you that DON'T drop your posture after the shot and don't release the trigger too fast. Don't worry I'm right behind you."

"GULP! Ok, here I go world! Amy the assassin here to kill the evil whiskey bottle!" She felt like an integral part of the gun focusing fiercely as her hand slightly shaked.

BANG!

The gun went off Amy and Shadow both watched with amazement as she had actually managed to shatter the bottle! She kept her posture just like Shadow said as smoke and heat billowed from the gun.

"Oh my GOD! I DID IT SHADOW! I DID IT!" Joy washed over her face as she jumped up and do

"WHOA WHOA WHOA! LOCK THE SAFETY AMY!"

"Oh! Oh! I'm so sorry! Here, Here!"

"Don't sorry me, sorry the person who could be dead by standing next to you! But wow! You are one son of a gun Amy Rose, such a fast learner!" Shadow wasn't the type to get astonished too soon but he was genuinely amazed by Amy's sharp acumen.

"Shadow! It felt so strange but somehow I liked it. It gave me power, I felt like I was invincible for a second!"

"Don't get too cocky kid, think like that and you'll be at the morgue tomorrow" Shadow jocularly stated.

"Hey! That's mean!"

"Heh, don't worry we'll also go through reflexes. So what do you say? Wasn't as bad as it seems was it?"

"Well what can I say Shads, it was really energizing and dangerous! But I'm aroused by the danger! I like bad boys, and this gun is no different from you!" Amy said as she leaned and pecked him on the lips.

"Bad Boys? You haven't seen the stuff I deal with! Ever fired a grenade launcher?"

"Hell Nooo! I'd shit in my pants! I nearly peed in my pants just by a mere pistol" Both of them burst out in laughter

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

* * *

><p><strong>Current situation:<strong>

With that the memory faded from Amy's mind. She snapped back as she could hear the killer tossing all her kitchen appliances all over the kitchen floor. "FINALLY! I FOUND IT!" he cackled ferociously.

With a burning and stern look on her face she hopped toward the open safe since her leg were still bound. The gun was behind a secret compartment, she opened the compartment and saw the gun glistening with a faint glow. She had never used her gun to kill anybody, this was her first serious use of the weapon. It had been a while she had practiced, she had hidden the gun because an emotional value was attached to the fire arm, and it reminded her of Shadow every time she saw it and instigated a feeling of emotional pain. She kissed the gun and held it in her hand as if she had kissed Shadow.

_Check the magazine! It's loaded, yes motherfucker, yes! I'm going to call for blood! No tolerance you vile piece of shit! _

She cocked the slide like a pro and hopped back into her seat as she tossed the tourniquet on her arm against the back of her bed. Blood had to flow, she had to seem authentic. Her hand was concealed behind her back

_I know exactly what to do!_

"I am coming! I hope you haven't ran away!" His sound vibrated through the hallway.

"Ah! Did you miss me? My, you have so many cooking appliances and knives! Seeing the extensive range I just had to pick the right one!"

She said nothing. He knelt before her, curious of her silence. "Why so silent my bleeding rose?" he extended his hands forward to caress her face

_Amy! You remember how to draw? The quick draw! _

"**EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORNS MOTHERFUCKER!" **

A look of terror had incited in his eyes right before Amy pushed the trigger

"NOOO-"

A spray of blood splattered on her face as chunks of brains and skull flew over the place some landing on her naked lap. Her body was colored by the blood of her tyrant, his reign of terror had come to an end. The body limply fell on her lap, she kicked the vomitous corpse aside as blood seeped on the surface of the floor. Now blood was gushing from the pulverized skull. Amy sat desensitized, full of shock, fear, victory and pain this was her bloodsoaked memory and the darkest hour of her life. Incinerating tears ran from her cheek she picked up her cellphone to her right.

Someone picked up on the other end of the line!

"Amy?! Is that you? I haven't heard from you in such a long time!"

"Sh-Sh-Sh-a-a-d-d-d-ow…." She couldn't speak anymore there was a lump in her throat the size of a boulder. She bursted in tears **"aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"**

"AMY! WHAT'S WRONG! ANSWER ME!"

"Th…th…th…tha-tha-tha-THANK YOU!"

"AMY I'M GOING TO VISIT YOUR PLACE RIGHT NOW!"

The phone fell from her hand into the pool of blood suddenly she remember what she had heard earlier today at the metro, what her favorite busker sang:

"_What did I do to deserve such a fate  
>I didn't really want to get<br>Involved in this thing  
>Someone handed me this gun and I<br>I gave it everything  
>Yeah, I gave it everything"<em>

* * *

><p><strong>CUT! I hope you enjoyed the finale of this chronicle. Please review and share thoughts!<br>**

**Note: This part is optional but I wanted to talk about some of the themes I used in this chronicle and how they played an integral part in the development of the story.**

**1 - Amy is alone in the course of events. This reflects the ever growing isolation in our current society. What she has in her mind is only memory and it's the memory of her friends that have kept her functioning and sane.**

**2 - The theme of life and death and birthdays is prevalent in chapters 2 and 3. It's ironic how one can give a gun for someone's birthday and one can use that gun to give death. This extreme contrast was interesting to me.**

**3 - The killer tried to justify his hatred in a logical way. This means that sometimes while some actions may palpably bad our emotions can be given weight by our own reasoning. Emotions aren't blind.**


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